


When Fire Meets Fire

by hybridshade (shimyaku)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anal Sex, Angst, Anonymous Sex, Bottom Jensen, Burns, Challenge Response, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Dragons, Dry Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Happy Ending, Human Sacrifice, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Loneliness, M/M, Magic, Memories, Memory Loss, Recovered Memories, Rimming, Scars, Top Jared
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 22:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3306026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shimyaku/pseuds/hybridshade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen's life is a lonely one. He travels from town to town, singing for his supper, twirling his fire sticks and entrancing his audience with just the smallest taste of his flame-driven magic. But when he encounters Jared, he's struck with his own taste of something both new and strangely familiar. Jared has a few surprises up his sleeve, and they promise to turn Jensen's world inside out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Fire Meets Fire

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Written for the [](http://spn-reversebang.livejournal.com/profile)[**spn_reversebang**](http://spn-reversebang.livejournal.com/) , prompted by spectacular flaming hot!Jensen (ha!) art from the loveliest of lovelies [](http://siennavie.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://siennavie.livejournal.com/)**siennavie**! It's been awesome working with you once again, my dear!
> 
> ART MASTERPOST GOES HERE: [CLICKETY CLICK and please give siennavie lots of love!](http://siennavie.livejournal.com/63483.html)

 

 

 

Fast friends. _Best_ friends.

Not that this new boy was his only friend. Of course he had others. He just didn't think he liked any of them quite this much. There was just _something_ about him.

He got the feeling his parents didn't like it, though. They made those faces they got when they were hiding something that they knew would upset him.

He already knew this boy was different, that he wasn't like _them_ , but if he laughed at the same jokes and liked playing the same sort of games how could it be a bad thing?

Still, his mother told him not to get too attached. So that's exactly what he did.

They spent all day together. Every day. For nearly a whole week. And when he asked his mother if the boy could stay, she almost looked like she might cry. It was strange. And she never gave him an answer.

The next day all the grown-ups were busy somewhere further off in the mountains, getting ready for a special festival they had on the same day every year. He didn't understand it yet and his parents told him he had to wait until he was older, but he'd heard enough to know it was something to do with youth and blood and regeneration. Sounded creepy, really.

All the adults being away was a good excuse to go exploring, though. So he dragged them both down into a hollow in the valley that was usually always guarded by one of the elders and off limits to kids like them. There wasn't anything special about it. It was pretty, he supposed, and quiet and secluded. All he could hear were the birds chirping.

His friend was nervous, knowing they should be there, and his eyes darted around like he was scared.

He should have said something comforting like his mother did when he was scared, but he just couldn't look away. Couldn't concentrate on the words. His friend was… he just wanted to keep looking at him all the time. He remembered something he'd heard at school and so grabbed his friend and pressed their lips together.

It was weird.

His friend was shocked, but then he laughed, and they ended up chasing each other and wrestling on the ground until they were covered in dust and dirt.

Too quickly the sun started to disappear. And the small pool of water at the edge of the clearing seemed to glow in the low light.

They sat by it and stared. It was so blue it was almost white, and they could feel the cold air floating above it.

He'd only seen the pool from a distance before, and the elders were always hovering around it, in charge. They called it the 'Pool of Necessity', which was a stupid name, but he remembered that it granted some sort of wishes. His father had said they weren't wishes, that it was about need not want, but to him it didn't seem to make much difference.

So it didn't stop him from reaching in, pulling out a handful of water, and slurping it up.

It tasted like normal water, and it wasn't even cold, so his friend immediately did the same.

Except when he breached the water, he didn't bend down to take a sip. He pulled back like he'd been smacked, and started to scream.

 

~///\\\\\///~

 

Jensen finished wrapping the final strip of fabric around his hand and wrist, tucking it tightly underneath to secure it. Proper gloves came next. Long ones made of supple leather that he pulled over the top – they were scuffed and much-repaired from constant use, and the finger sections were cut off around the second knuckle to bare his skin. The gloves allowed him to perform without hindrance, as well as adding a nice touch to his costume. All the while hiding what needed to be hidden.

If anyone ever asked, he simply said that they were for protection. And maybe Jensen's idea of 'protection' was a slight bit different from most who would ask, but it wasn't an outright lie. In actual fact, not once had Jensen ever been injured because of his profession. Protection from the flame that shaped his very existence – that was not something he'd ever had need for. The few people he'd ever confessed that to hadn't believed him. 'A freak thing,' they'd said, 'to be so well practiced and so skilled with the fire, yet to show no evidence of it.'

He'd met many a smithy, glass-blower, cook, as he travelled from town to town to sing for his supper, and they all bore the scars of their labours. Jensen had no answer to their queries, for it was true. A freak thing. Never had he endured even a scalded finger or a singed eyebrow, despite the close quarters in which he engaged with the flame. There was simply no explanation for his imperviousness. He bruised and bled and ached like any other man, but heat, steam, and fire, they caused him no harm.

Perhaps that was why he sought it out at every turn.

His memories of his childhood were hazy at best, like staring through a fog on a winter's morning, but he did remember the slowly expanding urges he'd started to feel just as he was entering his teenage years. He remembered being hypnotised by the glittering yellow-orange-red of the schoolhouse when it had spontaneously caught fire one day, the teacher having to physically drag him out of immediate danger when he hadn't been able to move on his own terms. He remembered the ever-concerned looks his adoptive parents had constantly shot him with, even more so after the stove incident when Samantha had caught his hands hovering just above the pot she'd been boiling potatoes in.

She'd been so worried about his 'poor hands'. And back then Jensen hadn't understood her fears, not when his hands were already so fucked up. Covered in scars from some sort of burn, or so he'd been told. But how could that be? He'd already tried it on his own – leaning so close into the hearth that it should have hurt. But he'd stepped away from the heat with only the soot on his shirt as evidence for what he'd done.

He'd never found a reason for his intense longing for the flame. He blamed the scarred mess of his hands, though. He didn't know when or where or how it had happened or what sort of fire had been able to touch him. Just like he couldn't remember how far the desire went back. Had no idea when he'd first started dreaming of flickering red sparks floating in the darkness, of wading through fiery pits like another might wade through a lake or a river.

It haunted him. Was it a curse or a gift that the scorching heat had never touched him, never seared his flesh, never filled the air with the acrid scent of sizzling skin?

He found his answer instead in the way that it caressed him like a lover. Warm tendrils of fire licking at him and teasing him with its seductive promises.

Jensen shook his head and focussed back on the present, pointedly ignoring the uncomfortable throb between his legs.

He fixed the 'skirt' and the beaded belt around his waist, and laid out his equipment on his pallet. His fingers skirted across the length of his fire staff without meaning to, possessively curling around the chains of his poi. There were some memories from times long past that he'd managed to cling on to. Some that he couldn't let go of. He remembered being sixteen, nearly a man yet so much a child, and enamoured with a juggler who had been passing through the town. He'd put on quite a show – hurling up to a dozen coloured balls into the air, then knives, then weighted clubs that had been on fire at one end. He'd gone up to the man after the show and had asked if he could give it a try. The juggler had eyed him dubiously for a long moment before finally agreeing, just so long as he was very careful. That had been the first time he'd ever picked up a pair of devils sticks in his very own hands, and Jensen could recall vividly the ease with which the sticks had passed through his hands and into the air, and the shocked look on the juggler's face out the corner of his eye.

Where would he be if that juggler hadn't stopped there that day? Possibly still stuck in that gods forsaken town, still whispered about by all those gods forsaken people… But instead, fate had struck, and he'd packed up and left as soon as he was of age. Now he lived much as that juggler had, travelling town to town and performing to earn his keep. It wasn't the greatest of existences, perhaps, but it served its purpose, made use of his singular 'talent'.

Sure that all his things were ready to go, Jensen rolled them back up in their leather bundle and headed out to the town square. The inn keeper had suggested the perfect place for him to set up, and had assured Jensen that he would get the word out that there was a Fire Twirler in town. He didn't recall having been to this place before, but still there was something in the air that plucked at his senses.

He shook it off, though, before he could think about it too deeply. He'd probably just been on the road for too many days on his own, having bypassed the previous town when he'd spotted a familiar cart belonging to a family of dancers and acrobats already parked on the outskirts. There was an unspoken agreement between entertainers such as himself, that unless the town was an especially large one, you were to move on if someone had already set themselves up there. It was only fair.

He found the stone platform he had been directed to and began to set up, putting down a small bucket for the audience to drop some appreciative coin in, then spreading out his instruments and setting a heavily wrapped club into an upright stand. This would be his source, the fire from which he'd light up all his other equipment. He retrieved his tinderbox and picked the flint and steel up into his hands. Cautiously he glanced around, and satisfied that no one was around to see he struck with the firesteel only once, and willed the spark to catch. And it did, as always.

Unlike his 'lack of injury', this fact Jensen had kept wholly to himself. There was no explaining away how he could draw a fully formed fire from minimum fuel and a single strike of the flint and firesteel. It just wasn't possible. But Jensen was full of impossibilities. After all, he made his living by weaving trickery through the warp of anomaly. He lived in superstitious times, it was true, but the majority of people were happy to accept just about anything if a 'magician' simply told them what they had witnessed was a 'little bit of magic'. And Jensen considered himself something of a magician. Even apart from the fire, his sleight of hand was well practiced, and he'd picked up more than a few simple illusions from other travelling performers during his life on the road. He'd garnered something of a name for himself over the years, and somewhere at some point they had started calling him the Enchanter. Never would he dub himself such a thing, but nor would he fight his satisfyingly mysterious reputation.

Jensen picked up a pair of simple fire fans first, and lit the wicks against the club. He briefly twirled and flipped them in his hands, just to loosen his wrists a little, and he turned to find a small group of people already starting to gather at the base of the platform. Pleased at the outcome and at the sight of yet more people on their way over, Jensen tuned in to his inner rhythm and began to dance.

 

~///\\\\\///~

 

Creeping out of the shadows, Jared settled himself against the wall of a nearby house. He was close enough to see every movement the twirler made, yet far enough away to stay apart from the crowd. He wasn't supposed to be in the town today, wasn't even sure what had lured him there in the first place, so he had to be able to make a quick getaway if the need called.

Yet somehow his attentions on his surroundings seemed to slip. He was usually so careful. But something about watching the twirler dance, the fire whipping around him like an oversized halo, drew Jared's entire focus. There was something beyond natural about it and it pulled at Jared's core, kept him ensnared like a bear in a trap.

The dancer swapped a pair of five-pronged fans for a staff, and then the staff for a set of spherical poi on chains. His gestures became even more intricate, his hips rolling and twisting, bare chest gleaming in the low light, and Jared let himself be taken along for the ride. There seemed to be music when in fact there was none, and the light of the flames appeared to drag through the air as if they were moving in slow motion. The glow enveloped the dancer in its warmth, almost like it was clinging to his very skin, refusing to fade away into the cool of the night, and the weaving of the two flaming spheres through the air was positively entrancing. Jared had never seen anything like it.

Except that he had. Just not at the hands of a human.

And never had it captured him so profusely.

This fiery seduction, all for him. He'd always kept his trysts to a minimum, kept his experiments buried deep regardless of whether they were between dragons or men. Though it wasn't out of fear. No, his stories were far from reaching the scandalous levels of some of his peers, but dragons were fairly free-spirited when it came to sex. Except that Jared just... wasn't really interested. He did what he had to to fit in, and he enjoyed it well enough, but he'd always felt that there was something better for him out there. That he was just waiting for something _more_. And maybe...

Jared forced himself to snap out of the spell, and he looked upon the dancer with different eyes. He had never not been able to sense another one of his own kind. There was always some kind of innate knowledge that when looking at their human form one dragon could always tell another. It was something in the blood, not a skill to be taught. Even humans could occasionally pick up on it, too. To look upon a dragon in human form, there might be an air of wrongness or otherworldliness about them, or so he had been told. And for that reason they had to always maintain their focus when around ordinary people, lest their hold on their human form slipped.

But this dancer. Jared could sense nothing of him. Nothing about him called out _dragon_. Only that Jared was sure he was manipulating the fire in some way; a way that (to his knowledge) only dragons had the ability to do. And only powerful dragons at that.

Was this man somehow gifted with magic? Surely that was the only other explanation. And surely it was not possible that the man was not aware of his gift. He had to figure out what the man's intentions were, whether or not he was a threat. Dragons could be shifty enough, but a human with magic? That was an untold quantity.

Even so. Jared was not one to lie to himself. He had to admit he was compelled by this man. By the sway of his hips and the fire light that hugged him like a second skin. Indeed this must be magic, because never before had Jared been so bewitched by another – neither man nor dragon. He couldn't deny that he wanted. He wanted to taste that flesh, and have it curled around his waist. He imagined its warmth around his own cool-to-the-touch skin.

The dancer suddenly dipped backward as he circled the flames above his head, and Jared licked his lips at the sight of his muscles flexing as he moved. He rose back to an upright position and his head turned just so, his eyes skimming across the top of the audience to lock immediately with Jared's. And Jared couldn't look away.

Untold quantity or not, the dancer's web had well and truly caught him.

 

~///\\\\\///~

 

Losing himself to the dance and to the power of the flames, Jensen almost didn't notice the faint tugging on his subconscious. Occasionally he became so lost amongst his movements that he couldn't stop until the flames literally burned themselves out. Then he would have to spend the entire next day holed up in whatever shelter he'd found trying to recover his energy. But this time he found himself drawn from his reverie by the sensation of too-interested eyes crawling over his body.

It sent a shiver down his spine, though not necessarily out of fear. He dipped and came back up, focussing on the feeling, and was pulled directly to a pair of eyes at the very back of the audience. A man stood against the back wall of a house, noticeably apart from the rest of the crowd, and cloaked in shadow. Jensen could garner little about his person but for that he was tall, dark haired, and looking at Jensen as though he wanted to devour him.

He forced himself to look away, concentrating once more on his dance and the entrancing sway of the flames. Except now the man's presence coloured every moment of Jensen's performance.

It hadn't been all that long since he'd last shared his body. He had always preferred the company of men, and while in most places he travelled it was generally something to be kept quiet, it wasn't often that he passed through without the familiar prickle of an interested party giving him a not-so-subtle look over. And for the most part, Jensen didn't like to disappoint them. His life on the road was a lonely one to say the least, so he indulged in what comfort sex could offer any time he felt the need. He held no regrets where that was concerned.

Still, there was something different about this particular man; and the fire, even as he whirled it about his body, it was calling out to him, drawing the man towards Jensen with considerable strength.

It had never done that before.

 

~///\\\\\///~

 

The leather bundle of equipment fell by the wayside as Jared pulled the dancer into the alley with him with a forceful tug. He pinned the man by his shoulders, his back pressing against the rough brick of the wall. Not a single light illuminated the way, and Jared couldn't make out much past the tips of the man's ears and the slant of his nose. Still, his blood was thrumming in his veins, pulling him in, and urging him on. It was more than enough.

"I have to have you," he whispered into the dark.

"So take me, then."

His voice was deeper than Jared expected, coloured with heat, and it resonated where their chests pressed together.

"Tell me your name so I can scream it."

There was a beat of hesitation before it came.

"Call me Jay."

"And you can call me Jared."

Jared could practically hear the smirk.

"Well, Jared, all this talking is making me impatient. I don't know what your intentions were, but--"

He cut Jay off with his lips. If he didn't want to talk? That was just _fine_ with Jared. He let his mouth run rampant over Jay's lips; searching, destroying. Tongues moved like a slow dance, Jay bringing that innate rhythm of his to the table, and it made Jared go weak at the knees.

Jay had wrapped a robe around himself once he'd completed his performance, but it was the work of a quick flick of Jared's wrist to get it undone, the soft folds of the well-worn cloth spilling down Jay's shoulders and onto the ground. Jared's hands wandered greedily, soaking up the toned planes of Jay's chest and stomach. It should have been no surprise to him that Jay's skin would be so hot to the touch, not when his own was so naturally cool. And Jay had gasped when Jared had first latched on to him - the temperature difference was a shock to them both. Just one of the fun little perks of being a dragon.

Fingers fiddled with the buttons of his own shirt, and soon gloved fingers were reciprocating his movements, the contrast between leather and skin only adding to the excitement. Jay grabbed and scratched at him like he wanted to climb under Jared's skin, and Jared pushed him roughly back against the wall, fitting their bodies together like puzzle pieces. Jared's cock was straining against his trousers and the textured beads of Jay's skirt proved to be little more than a horrible tease. His fingertips traced around the edge of the costume, tickling the smooth skin of Jay's hips, but when Jared failed to find a way to untie the damn thing, he figured he would just have to go around it.

He pulled back, prying their mouths apart, both of them gasping for breath. Jay's eyes shined black amongst the darkness, and Jared growled with desire at the hunger he could feel directed toward him. He turned Jay around by his shoulders and pressed him face first against the wall. He then dropped to his knees and simply pushed the strands of the skirt out of the way, sliding the fabric of his undergarment to the side. With the way he smelled... Jared just had to taste.

Jay opened up to him like a flower, the tight furl of his entrance loosening to the insistence of Jared's tongue, allowing him to dig deeper. Every taste Jared indulged in was honey sweet and yet sinfully raw. He could hear Jay's muffled whimpers from where he'd bitten in to his own arm to keep quiet, and Jared reached up to palm the rock-hard length of Jay's cock. He jolted at the sudden touch - no doubt the natural cool of Jared's skin had come as a shock - but it only seemed to excite him further, Jay's hips rocking against Jared's hand.

Sensing Jay was nearing the edge, Jared pulled back and stood to his full height once more. He exposed Jay's hole to the night air, the rim messy with saliva, and as Jared pulled his cock from his pants, he spat in his free hand and slicked himself as much as he could. He got the feeling that Jay wasn't one for being gentle, so he didn't hesitate to push his cock inside, sucking in a sharp breath at the slightly dry drag of bare flesh on flesh.

Jay's body was so hot wrapped around him; it was on the verge of too tight and just a step away from burning. Jared decided that it was just the way he liked it, that Jay's heat to his blue-bloodedness fit perfectly. He kept still as he waited, though. And while Jay never said a thing, his body said enough, calling to Jared wantonly and desperate.

It was almost violent, the rutting of their bodies together. But Jared felt the rhythmic constriction around his cock; saw the glistening fluid that soon spattered the side of the building and the dusty ground. Too soon he came inside Jay, leaving his mark, and he savoured the flavour still clinging to his tongue as he pulled away.

Jay righted his clothing without another word.

Jared was desperate to ask questions.

About Jensen's magic, about his affinity with the fire, how he manipulated it like he imagined Jay might unknowingly manipulate his heart.

But his mouth wouldn't cooperate.

When Jay suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled, Jared couldn't stop the look of surprise gripping his face.

Jay grinned. "I'm not done with you yet."

 

 

~///\\\\\///~

 

Jensen almost couldn't believe those words had tumbled from his lips. Yes, he loved the rush of spontaneous and mostly-anonymous sex, but one go 'round was usually more than enough to sate him, and waking up next to said 'go round' was rarely a practice he engaged in. But his body demanded more. Something about this man demanded _more_.

He retrieved his bundled equipment from the ground, relishing the deep ache that curled up his back as he moved, and they hurried through the night toward the inn. The late hour meant that everything was dark and closed up for the night, but the back door of the inn was left unlocked and they managed to creep up to Jensen's room with only a few creaks of the stairs. He closed the door behind them and made no move to light a lamp, but there was just enough starlight filtering in through the small window that he could push Jared backward onto the pallet and climb on top of him without worrying about where to aim.

He unravelled his robe, skirt, and the dishevelled layers of his underwear, tossing them to the side. He leaned down over Jared's prone body, lightly scratching down the bare expanse of his chest, just slightly amused that neither of them had thought to properly redress before leaving the alley. Then he pulled at the half-tied fastenings of his pants and revealed Jared's hardening cock to the room. It was dark enough that details were impossible, so Jensen had to move by feel. Stroking his hands along the rigid flesh, marvelling in the strange discrepancy of his body temperature.

"Fuck," Jared gasped, chest heaving atop the thin mattress.

"What an idea," Jensen answered, only half to himself.

He had no oil within reach, but there was enough come still trickling down between his thighs to make a difference. Jensen scooped up what he could, painting it over Jared's cock, and shuffled forward to take it back inside his body. He didn't know, couldn't fathom, what was so different about this man. But sinking down onto his cock was like a revelation. Jensen usually thought that he'd experienced enough of them by now to generally know what to expect, but with Jared...

Jensen gave himself up to the pleasure, and drowned in the climax, swallowing Jared's cries with his mouth.

They both surrendered to sleep even before their breathing had evened out, Jensen's still-gloved hands gripping on to whatever part of Jared's body he could reach.

 

~///\\\\\///~

 

_He hated the world._

_He hated the gods or the spirits or whoever it was that people said controlled things._

_He didn't know what he did to tick them off, but they didn't like him. That was obvious enough._

_His parents were gone. They'd gone and left him behind, all alone in the world. Now he lived with a nasty old woman who made him pull weeds in her garden until his hands bled. All the other kids laughed at his ratty, old clothes and made jokes about his dead mother and father. Mrs Rhodes the school teacher was the only one who gave a damn, but even though she was married to the mayor, the man only looked at him with pity. He might've been a kid, but he'd learned quick enough that pity never got you anywhere._

_Outside he noticed that a bunch of the adults were acting weird again, scurrying about like frightened rats._

_Once a year there'd be some meeting in the town square, but none of the kids were ever allowed to go. Ms Rhodes kept them in the school house and it was the only time she'd ever go a whole day without smiling._

_Jensen figured it was because someone – usually one of her school kids – would disappear. He didn't know how none of the other kids hadn't figured it out, but Jensen had. He'd tried to ask Ms Rhodes before but she'd hushed him up quick, her eyes red rimmed like she was about to cry. And he didn't want her to cry, not when she was the only one who was nice to him, so he didn't bring it up again._

_Then once he'd returned home from school he found nasty old Mrs Walters waiting for him at the door with the mayor at her side. He had that pity in his eyes again. And suddenly Jensen realised that it was his turn. He'd be the one disappearing this year._

_The mayor never said a word as he led Jensen out of the town and up a forbidden path that headed into the mountains. Jensen had nothing but the clothes on his back, not that he had many possessions to speak of, but he supposed he would miss the lone book he owned – a coloured picture book filled with strange tales of creatures and magic. He knew it inside and out. Maybe if he was given a pen and paper he'd be able to write it out again just for himself._

_The mayor stopped him once they reached an old scratched out signpost, and he grabbed the rope that was attached to it and tied Jensen's hands behind his back. He didn't struggle._

_"Maybe you'll find a better fate this way, boy. The one you got now sure ain't worth much."_

_Then he left._

_Before long a figure approached. Tall and solidly built, with salt and pepper scruff all over the lower half of his face and neck. His eyes looked not quite normal, and something about him screamed 'danger'._

_He said nothing, and Jensen said nothing, and the man's hands were cold as they hoisted him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing, carting him off into the night._

 

~///\\\\\///~

 

Jensen came awake with a start.

His dreams had always been important, had always meant something. But the one he'd just wakened from... It was like a riddle. A time and a place and people his didn't know or understand. It unsettled him to the core.

He shook away the feeling and carefully untangled himself from Jared's long sleep-heavy limbs, moving to dress and pack his things.

He took one long look over his shoulder just as he was opening to door, unexpectedly startling at the sight of Jared's sharp beauty. Even now, perhaps as sated as he'd ever been, something in his chest called out for this stranger. It was a new feeling, and one he wasn't quite sure what to do with.

But Jensen was set in his ways. He had a particular sort of life that he led, and had no intention to change it.

So he closed the door behind him before he could think better of it, and left.

 

~///\\\\\///~

 

Jared willed his feet forward, step after step. It had been nearly two days already, but he wouldn't quit now. _Couldn't_ quit now. He was getting so close – he could sense it in his bones.

Waking up at the inn and alone on the pallet, it had wrecked him. He had to mentally slap himself any time he thought of it, knowing that Jay had no real reason to stick around, and no real reason to consider their night together as anything more than what it was. Quick and dirty and purely physical. But still, Jared had thought there was something there, some sort of spark between them that was unique and worth holding on to. Which was why he couldn't let go just yet. For all that he'd learned about Jay's body, he hadn't even gotten a good look at the dancer's face. Not knowing was driving him to ruin.

And so there he was, trudging through the forest wearing hardly enough clothing to keep the warmth in, and shoes that were nearly warn through. His mother would be appalled.

Speaking of which, he could sense her reaching out to him from back at the den.

Each and every dragon was granted the chance to possess magic when they came of age. The magic manifested differently in everyone, leaving them with a specific 'skill' which they would learn and perfect over their lifetime. But for the longest time, Jared had resented his gift. After a childhood incident, and what was likely the worst day of his life, where Jared had prematurely drunk from the Pool of Necessity, he had had exceptional talent at meddling with the minds of others. Many of his kin begrudged him and his power to this day, but it wasn't as if it was a thing to be cast away if or when he didn't want it. Else he probably would have done so long ago.

Rather, any time there was a hearing following some sort of wrongdoing, Jared was forced to be present, to dig into the mind of the accused and reveal the truth for all. He still had nightmares about it, about the hurt he caused and the horrors he'd seen, and it had taken a long time for him to learn to control his _own_ mind. Not only with how to shield himself mentally, but also emotionally and physically as well. He'd had to learn to say 'no, I won't do it', as if it were the hardest thing in the world.

It was quite the sob story, but in hindsight there was little he would change. He knew his limits now, and was all the happier for it. Not to mention, if he were off chasing singularly-named strangers whom he'd spent singularly-intense one-nighters with, he could block his mother out when she started calling for him. Her skill involved being able to mentally call out to and locate familiar dragons over long distances. Anyone else would have been at her mercy, but Jared was fortuitously able to 'hide' from her.

Thus his search for Jay continued. Even though he knew his parents would be frantic with worry by now.

Perhaps he could have sped the process up if he'd shifted into his dragon form, taking flight to locate his target from above. But not only might he risk being seen, he'd also run the possibility of completely freaking Jay out. There weren't many humans living who'd ever seen a dragon in their true form, but even those that hadn't usually knew enough, enough to lose their minds with fear if they saw one. So by human methods it was. They took a lot longer, but weren't necessarily any more doomed to fail.

The night sky had already settled in when Jared found him.

It was the smell that was his first clue. A human was unlikely to pick it up, but dragons had enough of an affinity to fire that they could scent it a mile away. When Jared came upon him, Jay was still awake. Jared kept to the shadows and out of sight, and he watched in awe as Jay played with the fire he had built in the centre of a small clearing. He increased and decreased the size of the flames at will, and would catch 'chunks' of flame in his palms, flicking them from side to side and whirling them around his fingertips like spinning tops. It was true mastery.

Jared lost track of time as he watched, only coming back to himself when Jay finally laid down to sleep. He waited until the morning when the sky began to lighten, and crept over to kneel at Jay's side. His features were beyond lovely, his skin unblemished but for a faint smattering of freckles, and Jared could barely bring himself to look away. But eventually he did. And it brought him face to face with the only visible blemishes on Jay's body – his bare hands.

They were horribly scarred from the wrist down. It was as if someone had taken his hands and dipped them in boiling water.

The thought made Jared's breath catch in his throat, and a bolt of electricity suddenly zipped down his spine.

He'd pulled Jay's hands into his own before he could stop himself. Jay stirred, and when bleary green eyes blinked open, he _knew_.

"Jensen."

A sob ripped at his throat.

And Jensen tensed, hands immediately tearing away as he rolled back, arms up in a defensive position.

"Why are you- How do you know my name?"

"Because I _know_ you... And you know me, too."

Long moments passed, Jared's thudding heartbeat the loudest noise in the entire clearing, before Jensen eventually relaxed slightly and spoke again.

"That's insane."

"You're telling me."

"When, then. When did you know me?"

"I was seven. You were about ten. We were only together for a short time – less than a week – but it changed our lives."

Jared watched and waited, for some kind of recognition, but it never came. Instead, Jensen seemed to collapse in on himself in the space of a few seconds, falling to his knees on the dirty ground.

"I don't remember that. But… you have to understand. I don't remember anything that far back."

 

~///\\\\\///~

 

Jared only had to touch him, just lightly on the side of the head, and suddenly Jensen's mind exploded with hundreds and thousands of images and sounds and smells and emotions and _pain_.

There was him, small little legs, a wrinkled old lady, and hatred. A younger lady, a schoolhouse, pitying eyes, and anger. A man, mountains, strange eyes, and fear. Then there was a boy with messy brown hair, and white-cold water…

"What did you do to me?"

Once again Jared pulled his hands into his own, not-warm fingers wrapping over his palms.

"I unlocked your memories. When you were taken away from the mountains, one of my kin put a type of wall up in your mind so you wouldn't remember what happened or what you saw. Stupidly, they blocked out not weeks, but whole years of your memories. Sloppy, really."

"They probably did me a favour, to be honest." Jensen whispered the words, though he knew Jared heard them. And it was true in a way. Yes, maybe he'd had to forget about Jared and the mountains, but not remembering what came before was surely a blessing. Jensen's head was positively throbbing with all the pain and anger and fear that clashed like cymbals as his memories attempted to sort themselves out. It _hurt_. It hurt having to remember old Mrs Walters and all the children he'd gone to school with, all the horrible things he'd been subjected to. All these years that he'd wanted to fill that grey emptiness, and now that he had it back he just wanted it gone again.

"No, Jensen, I'm not going to take it away again. This stuff isn't something to be tampered with—"

Jensen didn't want a lecture. He just wanted to stop thinking about it. Something to take his mind off the pain.

"What did you mean when you said 'my kin'? Who even says that anyway?"

It took Jared a moment to catch up to Jensen's change of topic.

"I don't actually need to tell you that," he said, "Because you already know."

Biting down on his irritation, Jensen relented. And instead of pushing the memories away, he brought them to the surface and started searching. The answer came more easily than he'd anticipated. But it was an answer he couldn't possibly have predicted. At least, not until a handful of minutes ago.

"You're a dragon."

Jared grinned far too brightly for that time of the morning.

"See, that wasn't so hard. And yes, all of us that live up on the mountain are dragons. We just generally prefer to hang around in human form most of the time. Do you remember, though? Only a kid, and yet you figured out what we were after less than a day of being around us."

"I…" The memory immediately jumped to the fore. "I had a book. When I was a kid. A book about magic and fantastical creatures. It was pretty much the only thing I had left of my parents, so I knew everything from that book by heart. After I was taken up to the mountains it just took me some time to calm down enough to think. Then it was easy to figure out."

"Too smart for your own fucking good, probably."

Jensen looked down at their intertwined hands – Jared's perfectly formed fingers, and his not-so. It made him remember not only that terrible moment of inconceivable pain, but also all the moments that came before. Precious moments. Moments that he'd wanted to remember forever. That he'd shared with the truest friend he'd ever had. A friend that had kissed him before chasing him around for hours and rolling around in the dirt with him, like all little boys ought to do. It had never crossed his mind that Jared had been anything other than just _Jared_. The idea that he'd been a dragon was pretty much irrelevant. Sure, he supposed it had been awesome to have a real live dragon as a best friend, but Jensen had had other priorities at the time. Like climbing trees, and seeing who could give the other the worst Chinese burn.

"You know," Jensen looked up into the swirling amber of Jared's eyes, "That first day we met you told me you'd show me Dragon Jared, but you never did."

Once again looking far too happy, Jared jumped to his feet and began shedding his clothes. Jensen barely had time to contemplate the notion of seeing Jared standing there naked in full daylight, before suddenly his shape began to change and grow, leaving a fully formed dragon in his wake after only a matter of seconds.

And Jared was stunning. He stood at least ten-foot tall with a tail that went on forever, and huge leathery wings tucked snugly at his sides. His scales were a glittering bottle-green, and Jensen couldn't stop himself from reaching out to touch. They were hard and more textured than he'd first thought, and cool to the touch just like Jared's skin. A deep rumble came from his throat, and Jared curled his neck down to nudge at Jensen's nose.

Jensen sputtered as he received a sudden and thorough licking to his face, giving Jared a hefty whack on the neck in retaliation.

"I see you're just as messy a dragon as you are human."

_You'd be disappointed if I were anything less._

"Yeah, no, I—… Wait, what? Did you just…?"

Jared's horned head wobbled from side-to-side with amusement, and Jensen could hear his laughter loud and clear. Only it was in his _head_.

"You are… Too much."

And that was about as much as Jensen could take for one day. Jared seemed to sense it, too. He remained in his dragon form, but nudged at Jensen until he was back lying on the blankets he'd slept on, the two of them somehow curled together despite the ridiculous size discrepancy.

They stayed there, barely moving, for the rest of the day. Jensen drifted between wakefulness and sleep, Jared's head right by his own. And somewhere in amongst it all, he noticed that regardless of the fact that he had a dragon-Jared at his side rather than a human one, their eyes were exactly the same.

 

~///\\\\\///~

 

They headed up an overgrown path with a steady incline, and Jensen was shocked to recognise the old signpost, rotting string of rope still hanging at its side. He slowed down, intending to reach out and touch it, but Jared's hand grabbed him before he could get there, pulling him forward and preventing him from getting too close.

"That's not a memory you need to keep anymore."

"I beg to differ," Jensen muttered, trying his best not to be bitter about it all. If he hadn't have ended up tied to the post in the first place, he wouldn't have met Jared, he wouldn't have been scarred, wouldn't have been had his memories taken from him and given a new life. And neither would he have had those memories returned, both of his time in the dragon's den and all the horrid times that had come before. Knowing it all once again was a burden. Yet it was a burden he'd now decided he'd rather bear than have to live with years' worth of nothing but empty grey.

He sighed. "So we're going back there."

"Yeah, I know it must be… complicated for you." Jared offered his hand and Jensen took it, glove-free. "My life from here on out is going to have you in it, whatever that may require of me. But we have to go back one way or the other, so it might as well be now. I'm hoping our Queen might have a little wisdom to offer us, maybe explain things a bit better. I think… she might surprise you."

"Your Queen?"

"She's old as the hills and more than a bit eccentric. But most importantly, she doesn't judge. Which is more than I can say for the rest of my kin."

Jensen huffed a laugh. "So I shouldn't expect a warm reception then?"

"Probably not. A lot of dragons blame you, or me, or _us_ … for a lot of things, really. But let's not talk about it right now. We're getting close and there are those who would listen in without an invitation."

They both remained quiet as they came upon the den – a large rocky plateau bordered by innumerable caves and wooden houses and dusty paths that snaked off further into the mountains. They walked down one particular 'street', Jared leading the way, and Jensen felt the prickle of many eyes upon them, people coming out of the houses and caves to openly stare.

_They can sense that an outsider is here. And that you have magic._

Jared's mind-speak slipped smoothly through his brain. The idea that he was almost getting used to it freaked him out almost as much as the ability itself.

_But don't worry, save our Queen, none of them are as adept as me. They won't hear your thoughts unless you actively project them._

Jensen took what little comfort he could from Jared's words, squeezing his hand as yet more people emerged from their homes to stare at them. There came a gasp, followed by another, and then the hushed whispers that reminded him of times he'd rather forget. Jared was tense at his side, but Jensen could tell he was doing his best to look as calm as possible.

_They've realised who you are. Your eyes probably gave it away, but don't feel bad. That lady back there has an exceptional memory._

It took a great lot of effort, but Jensen held his blank expression in place as they passed through the more crowded areas of the den, but it crumbled away into fear when they finally came to a stop in front of a small shack.

"Jared?"

A middle-aged woman emerged from the front door. She looked them both over, her eyes zeroing in on their intertwined hands and going wide with shock. Her hand rose to her mouth and she stood frozen for several long moments before she suddenly seemed to realise what she was doing. Then in a great big hurry she glanced around at all the people still staring from back the way they'd come, and swiftly ushered both he and Jared inside.

Jared took Jensen's pack and set the load on the floor, and bid him to sit at the kitchen-dining table, setting himself down at his side. Jared's mother – for who else could it be? – paced the floor at least a dozen times before she finally stopped.

"I should have known. I may not have a gift for foresight, but I should have known."

"It's not your fault, mama," Jared said with a placating gesture, "Who could've foreseen such a thing?"

"Just about anyone with a brain, I'd say," came a deep voice, and Jensen turned to see a vaguely familiar face, not-quite-natural eyes and salt-and-pepper beard looking exactly the same as they had all those years ago.

"Dad—"

"Honestly, Jared, you might have been kids, but anyone who bothered to look would have seen that you were bound by the strings of fate even at such a young age. And not even magic can stop fate when it's determined like that. Of course, that doesn't mean everyone's automatically going to accept the situation."

Jensen kept his eyes on the table top, lacking the strength to attempt a further look at the older man's eyes. He could sense, however, that he was gearing up to say something else, but the moment was cut short when a knock at the door pierced through the heavy silence.

"Jared?"

Jared turned to his mother and seemed to understand whatever she was saying with just a look, because suddenly he was pulling Jensen to his feet, grabbing his pack, and leading them both toward the back of the shack. They passed through a darkened hallway and descended a flight of stone steps, emerging into a generously sized suite of underground rooms. The walls were adorned with rows of fire-burning lamps, and Jared led them into what could only have been his bedroom, settling them both on the floor on a large straw-packed mattress.

"It's probably best if we stay down here for now. Dragons have the tendency to be both exceptionally curious and not liking their peace disturbed."

Jensen could feel a headache coming on.

"Meaning they'll likely be talking about us for weeks to come."

Jared winced. "Well, we are pretty memorable?"

With the pressures of the day bearing down on him, Jensen couldn't find it in himself to be amused by Jared's words. Instead he sighed for the umpteenth time that day and slumped heavily on the bed. Jared – no doubt attuned to his mood – prodded Jensen onto his side so he could curl up behind. He should have expected that Jared wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself, but Jensen wasn't going to complain. Not when it felt this good. Strong hands soothing him all over, not quite a massage and not quite a rub-down. Jensen lost track of time's passing and decided he didn't care that he hadn't even noticed his clothes being removed. Rather, he only tuned back in to the present as Jared began preparing him with oil, spreading him open with his fingers and then his cock.

He let Jared move him around as he pleased, fucking into him from different angles, searching for all the spots that made Jensen moan. He passed out somewhere during round three, coming-to to find himself wrapped in long limbs, cocooned by a broad chest. Even after all the exertion, Jared's body still emanated a slight chill – a cooling balm to his own overheated skin.

"I think I was looking for you," Jensen suddenly confessed, knowing innately that Jared was still awake. "All these years I don't think I even realised what I was doing. Where your father took me afterwards was so far away from here… but once I left that place I just knew I had to head this way – toward the mountains. And I knew I felt something different when I reached that town the other night. I just couldn't figure what."

"That was the town you first grew up in," Jared said into the nape of his neck, "Where you were taken from."

"Not that I even cared. I hated it there. But they… I was supposed to be some sort of child sacrifice, right? I remember figuring out that one child would go missing at the same time every year."

Jared nodded. "Yeah. Our Queen. I meant it when I said she was as old as the hills. Her particular skill is with blood magic – really powerful stuff. She's remained alive and relatively youthful for thousands of years, but it required a certain kind of sustenance to keep her that way. Virgin blood, specifically. Spilled under the first full moon after the summer solstice."

It took a moment for Jensen to let the idea sink in. "So did… did someone else have to die so that I could live?"

"Actually, she hasn't taken another sacrifice since you."

"What? Why?"

"I'm sure she has her reasons. But going without means that her age is catching up with her now. She probably won't be around much longer."

"So that's one of the reasons people blame us, huh?"

"We were only kids. It wasn't our fault. And besides, she's the fucking _Queen_. I think she can make her own damn decisions."

They dropped off into silence, bust just as he was on the verge of sleep, Jensen felt Jared suddenly grow tense behind him.

"Just got a mind-message from my ma. The Queen wants to see us tomorrow."

 

~///\\\\\///~

 

Jared's cool hand held tight to his clammy-hot one as they stood before the Queen.

She sat curled by a roaring fire in her dragon form. She was huge – as tall as two men even while in repose, and easily ten men long – and her scales were the colour of charcoal. Jensen imagined she would have been quite the sight in her youth, but despite his lacking knowledge of dragons, her age still showed. Mostly around her face and on various patches of her body where the charcoal had faded to a stormy grey, the scales there looking brittle and cracked.

_Come, my children._

Her voice was gentle yet commanding, and with Jared at his side, they stepped closer to her form.

_Young star-crossed lovers is what you are. Destined to find each other no matter the distance, and determined to be together despite the opposition you face._

Jared pressed closer to his side.

_My, Jared, I can see why you could not keep your hands off of him. He is quite the beauty._

Jensen felt himself flush right down to his toes, but he could hear the humour behind the Queen's voice, and did not resent the compliment as he would usually have done.

_Indeed there is nothing wrong with a compliment or two, young Jensen. Just as there is nothing wrong with your magic. You may play it down amongst humans, as they would not understand the truth of it, but here among dragons magic should be revered._

He couldn't help but inwardly scoff at the words. If dragons really felt that way about magic, then why had he and Jared been shunned since the moment they stepped foot in the den.

 _Because they have forgotten their place!_ the Queen bellowed, loud enough that Jensen felt his brain rattle in his skull, and he knew somehow that the entirety of the dragons would have heard it, too.

_I may be old, but nothing escapes me. I know what my sons and daughters think of you. They believe that when you drank from the sacred Pool that you stole magic that was not yours to have. And a human, of all things... But they are fools to think that magic would simply let itself be taken! Magic makes its own decisions. Magic chooses its hosts, dragon or not, and it chose you both that day._

Jensen found himself with a face full of Jared's chest, and a certain sting in the corner of his eyes.

_Fire and ice in your hands, but fire and fire in your hearts. To both of you, I grant my eternal blessing._

Probably he should have been feeling something apart from numbness, but it had not happened often in his life that he'd heard something so accepting and encouraging directed so intently his way. It was more than a little overwhelming. But Jared's consciousness seemed to hover just barely at the edge of his own, and it soothed him like nothing else could ever hope to. Jensen pressed his nose into the curve of Jared's neck, burrowing under the thick cotton collar of his shirt, but the moment was broken when Jared suddenly laughed, his whole body shaking with it.

Jensen was about to ask what the problem was when Jared's lips dipped down, tickling at Jensen's ear as they moved.

"She's playing coy for some reason, but she'd like to see you make the fire dance."

Jensen lifted his head, searching for the fire by the Queen's side. With a flick of his hand he made the flame pulse.

"I think I can do even better than that. It's such a small price to pay."

 

~///\\\\\///~

The beads of his skirt clicked and clacked as he twisted in a circle, twin spheres of flame flying through the air and dragging their chains behind them.

Jensen listened to the rhythm that played in his soul, moving his body and swinging the poi around in time with the beat. It had taken a little time, but finally he'd learned to truly give himself over the magic that coloured his blood, the power that rose up within him whenever he held fire in his hands. The flickering light wove intricate patterns through the night sky, swirling lines and shapes surrounding his body like a brilliant cage.

Tonight he danced not for an audience, but for Jared. Jared loved to perch at the very edge of the firelight, scaly claws pawing at the ground with excitement, his eyes glowing with the reflection of the flame – content. And it granted Jensen contentment in return. When it was just the two of them he could let himself go in a way that he couldn't anywhere else. It was a freedom that before he'd only dreamed of.

Around them was nothing but lush green forest as far as the eye could see. They were a good day or two's walk from the next town, and yes, eventually they would head that way. Jensen would perform like always, and Jared would do a little 'mind reading' to stir up the children, but they were in no hurry to be anywhere other than with each other.

 

~///END\\\\\~

A/N: again, if you haven't yet, please visit [](http://siennavie.livejournal.com/profile)[**siennavie**](http://siennavie.livejournal.com/) s [ART MASTERPOST](http://siennavie.livejournal.com/63483.html) and show your appreciation ;)


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